#ICYMI GENERAL Election 2016 – the February edition – may very well be all said and done in deciding all but two contested seats, but we throw a little cast back to a piece written by Limerick journalism student Simon Bourke who found himself somewhat perplexed in what way he would cast his ballot. In the end, neither of his two charges made it past the
Last October, in my guise as a second year journalism student, attended a city council meeting for the first time. And it went pretty much as I’d expected.
I’d expected there to be quarrelsome middle-aged men in ill-fitting suits, and there were enough of them to confirm my preconception.
I’d expected that squabbling to be offset by the more sedate reasoning of the women in the room, and it was.
And I expected that, in the end, very little would be done and that the whole thing would have to be repeated again in a month’s time, and it most probably was.
But one thing I didn’t expect was to see a rogue politician, a rebel with a cause, enter the room a few minutes late, dressed in a checked shirt and jeans, looking dishevelled and unkempt. I certainly didn’t expect that same politician, this renegade from the wrong side of the tracks, to immediately bring to task the man chairing the meeting, to effectively call for his head while all others remained silent.
But that was exactly what happened. And, by the end of the meeting, the renegade in question, Cian Prendiville of the Anti-Austerity Alliance, had gained another devoted follower. Me.
I knew nothing about his policies, his ideologies, his principles or beliefs, but I had seen enough. I’d seen him argue with Mayor Jerry O’Dea and I’d seen him ruffle a few carefully-preened feathers. What more did I need?
That was only a few months ago, but already I’ve decided to give my number one preference to someone other than Cian Prendiville this coming Friday.
I still admire his anti-establishment leanings and I still fully endorse his efforts to eradicate austerity and inequality but, I don’t know, I’ve just gone off him.
Now I think I’ll go for that nice-looking woman from the Social Democrats, Sarah Jane Hennelly. Do I know anything about her? Not a jot, but I enjoyed Stephen Donnelly’s performance the other night and she’s on his team, so she’ll do for me.
Some voters have lifelong allegiances that can never be altered. Others studiously compare each and every manifesto before making their decision. And then you have people like me, people who bet on one horse race every year, the Grand National, and do so based on the colour of the jockey’s silks.
We see the General Election as nothing more than a popularity contest, a chance to give favour to the one with the nice smile, or the polite one who didn’t interrupt Clare Byrne.
Yes, we have a vague political stance, we know the difference between left and right, between liberal and conservative. We have a handful of issues that we’re strong on, non-negotiable viewpoints that will see any party foolish enough to disagree with them banished to the back of the drawer.
But we’re flaky, disloyal, likely to jump ship at the drop of a hat. Currying our favour is an exercise in futility; try too hard and we’ll call you desperate, be too cool and we’ll call you aloof.
The best you can hope for is not to annoy us, not to get on our wrong side.
But don’t be too nice, God no, we hate that.
